One Ferocious Fur Ball from Hell
by Vanessa Sgroi
Summary: Big trouble comes in small packages for Cal even when he's minding his own business. Rated T for some swearing.


Disclaimer: All characters, etc. are owned by Rob Thurman. I'm just having a bit of fun with Cal and Niko.

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**One Ferocious Fur Ball from Hell**

**By: Vanessa Sgroi**

I should've known better than to open the package. But I was lulled into a sense of safety by two things; the box as small and Georgina's name and address were listed in the upper left corner. My name and address were scrawled in black marker in the center. I'd found it outside the door around noon when was headed to the street for lunch before Nik was due home.

Curious, I brought the box inside and ran my fingers under the industrial-strength tape holding the top flaps to the sides. The tape let loose with a tortured squeal. I pulled the cardboard flaps apart and peered inside. A small brown fluff ball of fur no bigger than a runt kitten stared back at me. Its eyes were huge and limpid like a Sugar Glider, and full of pleading innocence reminding me of Puss-in-Boots from Shrek. Yes, even half-human, half monster individuals like me have seen that movie. What can I say? I watch a lot of TV.

I wasn't much into cute little animals but found I couldn't resist petting this one. "Hey, little guy." I extended an index finger.

And the little bastard bit me.

"Ow!" I pulled my hand back in surprise, fumbled the box, and watched it hit the floor. The fur ball pushed its way from underneath the cardboard.

I blinked, bemused and puzzled. The creature had doubled in size. Before I could move, it growled and came at me again. Its heretofore unseen claws pierced through the denim of my jeans, raked at my legs.

"Ow! Dammit! Get off me." I batted it away and watched with no small amount of pleasure as it tumbled across our scuffed and worn hardwood floor. My pleasure turned to astonishment as Mr. Fluffball doubled in size yet again.

It came at me a third time, and I tried to get out of its way. But the little sonuvabitch was fast. The creature nailed me a third time. And grew exponentially.

I finally put two and two together. Each time it drew blood, whether by claw or tooth, it doubled in size. _Shit._

My gun was at the small of my back, underneath the battered leather jacket I wore. I moved to grab it, but again the creature was quicker. It launched itself at me, hitting me in the chest with enough force to push the air out of my lungs, and I stumbled backward off balance. Its teeth sank into my neck. Gasping, I struggled to catch my breath and backhanded the carnivorous animal. It let go of my neck, only to sink its teeth into my shoulder.

The additional weight as it doubled in size twice over knocked me off balance. I fell hard onto my back then yelped when my gun dug into my spine. The fur ball, now the size of a large dog and still looking ridiculously innocent despite its increasingly bloody fangs, now had me pinned. Hot, fetid breath bathed my face and ruffled my hair. I arched up and shoved as hard as I could, dislodging the beast enough to reach beneath me for my weapon. My fingers closed around the handle, and I managed to pull it out. I tried to take aim, but Furball-from-Hell let out a deep, guttural hiss when he spied the gun and struck out, claws tearing deep furrows in my hand and wrist as it flung the weapon across the room.

A few more bites and scratches, and I knew I was in trouble. Death by a thousand cuts kept circling through my mind. The creature was now about even with me in size, and all its weight was pressing down on my lungs and diaphragm making it hard for me to breathe. I bucked beneath it, pushed and clawed at its fur, to little effect. I couldn't get enough leverage to dislodge the beast. Bloodletting and lack of oxygen had my vision fuzzing around the edges. I gave one more ineffectual push as my eyelids fluttered closed.

Suddenly there was an unearthly howl. After several seconds, it cut off abruptly. My ears rang in the silence. I opened my eyes, blinked lazily a few times, and saw Niko standing over me, bloody Katana in hand. Further investigation showed that the creature that had been attacking me was now in about six or eight pieces scattered on and around me. Its blood, dark crimson bordering on black, covered me. A syrupy sulfur smell hung heavy in the air. I gagged as the tainted air rushed back into my abused lungs.

"Cal?"

I groaned and pushed shakily to a sitting position. "Cyrano?" I gasped. "Holy shit. What was that thing?" I kicked at one of the furry pieces and grimaced as it squelched.

"That was an Oot. Cal, how the hell did an Oot get into the apartment?"

I sheepishly pointed to the cardboard box. "Box left at the door," I mumbled.

Niko laid his Katana on the floor and helped me to my feet. "And you opened it?" There was a definite note of disapproval in my brother's voice.

"Had Georgina's name on it," I muttered in self-defense. I swayed and felt Nik's hand wrap around my upper arm.

"C'mon, little brother, let's get you cleaned up." Disapproval morphed quickly to concern.

"Good idea."

I stumbled with him toward the bathroom. "Then lunch."

"What?"

"Fix me up. Then lunch. I'm hungry."

I could almost hear Nik shaking his head.

"Right. You get attacked by an Oot and all you can think about is food."

I shrugged philosophically.

"Fine. I'll get you bandaged up and if you're still hungry after that, we'll get lunch."

Niko's statement didn't bode well for me for the next little while. I wondered for a split second why I might not be up for food but let it pass.

"THEN we're going to find out who the hell left you that little gift."

_Oh, fun. If I didn't feel so crappy, I'd do a happy dance._

"Can't I just stay here?"

"Only if you clean up the Oot guts all over the living room."

"Uhh, never mind. I think I'd rather come with you."

_**Fin**_


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